I Dreamed a Dream
by TrenchcoatsAreSexy
Summary: Walt's attempts to relieve his guilt have a ripple effect for Jesse and his future.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: Sort of a fusion with ****_Les Miserables_****. **

**Warning: Mention of canonical character death, spoilers for S5, child abuse, disturbing insinuations.**

Mike was dead, and Jesse was out. That had been the reality for the past three months, even if Walt wasn't ready to accept it. Their little triumvirate had fallen by the wayside. Mike had been replaced with Declan, who Walt rarely ever actually spoke with, and Jesse had been replaced by Todd, who Walt could only barely get up the energy to care about one way or the other. Things at home weren't much better; he and Skyler were little more than people who happened to have the same living quarters.

Walt considered all of this as he sat in Saul's waiting room, trying to figure out a way to get Jesse back. It just wasn't the same with Todd, and it would never be. Todd was hired help, not a confidante, not a surrogate son. Someone could have walked into the lab and blown Todd away in front of Walt and he wasn't sure he would be able to garner more than minor annoyance.

It was Jesse he wanted, Jesse he needed, and Mike who had taken Jesse away.

But a plan had emerged in his head. A pretty lackluster plan, if he was entirely honest about it. But a plan nonetheless.

* * *

It had all started with a conversation he'd overheard last week, between Hank and Gomez. Walt had returned to the DEA office to see if he could snatch any news about Mike's case, and when the DEA would give up because the man was not going to be found.

"It's a damn shame," Hank had commented, "Gomie, do you remember little Kaylee? Ehrmantraut's granddaughter?"

"Yeah, of course. Why?" Gomez replied.

"Her mother got into a three car pile-up the other day. DOA. Next in line to care for the kid? Ehrmantraut. Needless to say, he's MIA, so the kid's in foster care."

"Damn," Gomez replied. "It's a shame. I mean, it's not the kid's fault. Not like she'll ever know she was almost a millionaire twice."

Hank had nodded and then turned back to Walt, and his Skyler problems, with a sigh.

* * *

"So I found this address you wanted." Saul leaned forward and looked at Walt with concern. "Also ran that background check on Kaylee's foster mother. A couple of priors under a different last name, for child abuse. So this is probably not exactly the Von Trapps. But, listen, Walt – uh, Mike isn't going to come looking for Kaylee, is he? Because I like my legs unbroken, thank you very much."

"Wouldn't Mike want her out of this situation?" Walt replied evenly. "And Mike is gone. Out of town. For good. So you'd only be getting on his good side. Give me the address, Saul."

"What are we going to do with this information?"

"There's no 'we'," Walt fired back. "Just hand it over."

* * *

He had. Walt and Jesse were in Jesse's car – Walt's was far too recognizable – as the younger man drove down the highway, barely speaking to his mentor.

"So, wait, what's our plan?" Jesse inquired, though he had already really past the point where he should have asked. It was obvious that he was still aching from the loss of Mike in his life and now the impending loss of Walt, too. At least, that was Walt's interpretation of the longing look on Jesse's face.

"We go there and we get her back," Walt replied simply.

"How? And since when do you actually care about a kid being okay? Let alone Mike's kid? Is this just another trick to get me back working with you again, Mr. White, because I swear…"

"Jesse, this is information that fell into my lap. I acted on it. That's it. Consider it a hold-over from my days of being a mandatory reporter." Jesse looked at him, confused. "Now shut up and pay attention to your driving."  
Jesse turned back to the road with a shrug.

"I'm still out, you know," he commented after a moment.

"I know, Jesse."

Walt thought of whenever it had been Mike's car they were driving in, he'd been relegated to the back while Jesse rode shotgun.

It wouldn't ever happen again.

Walt had fucked up, let his emotion guide his hand instead of his brain. He'd acted like Tuco, not like Heisenberg. He wasn't proud of it.

And if Jesse ever found out…

He was less worried about Jesse trying to kill him – he knew he couldn't bring himself to do it – than he was worried about Jesse just falling apart before his eyes and simply walking off to end his life.

No, Jesse must never know. To Jesse, Mike must simply be on the run, out of touch, not dead in a ditch. Some part of Walt couldn't bear to use the acid on him – or maybe he just couldn't rely on himself to carry Mike without help – and he'd buried him under the river bank, somewhere peaceful and slow, along with the passport and the money.

Mike could use it to cross the river Styx, maybe.

Walt was jerked back to the present by Jesse's voice.

"It's off of this street right here."

He felt the car turn, and they found themselves parked on the street, not far from a somewhat rundown beige house with a yard in front that was filled with overgrowth and a dead tree stump. One of the windows had a crack straight through it.

"Mike's granddaughter lives _here_?" Jesse murmured. He pursed his lips, parked the car and stepped out. Walt moved to follow him, but Jesse motioned with a finger for him to stay back as he went on ahead.

* * *

Jesse slipped through the front gate, an off-white wooden thing that was missing most of its pegs. He quickly walked by the side of the house, alongside the gutter, trying to find an easy way to sneak up and look through the window.

There was a trashcan. Maybe he could brace himself on that. Maybe…

Jesse was knocked out of his thoughts as he collided with someone or something. He reeled back and fell on his ass, before slowly looking up.

Across from him, also having fallen on the concrete, was a little girl of nine or ten, with long brown hair and wide eyes. Next to her was the blue wooden handle of a broom that was almost bigger than she was.

"Sorry," she said quickly, "I wasn't looking where I was going."

Jesse climbed to his feet as well, brushing the rock fragments from his palms.

"It's okay," he replied quietly, "Are you Kaylee? Kaylee Ehrmantraut?"

She hesitated, then slowly nodded.

"Are you a friend of Miss Autumn's?" she asked.

Jesse looked her over. Her clothing was tattered, and he could see a bruise on her arm. He clenched his nails into his palm.

"I'm a friend of your grandfather's," he told her. "My name is Jesse."

Kaylee brightened and stepped closer to Jesse.

"Pop Pop!" she exclaimed.

A booming voice came out of nowhere to make her back up again, though.

"KAYLEE! You useless brat!" A woman, seemingly the owner of said voice, tall and pudgy and red-haired, emerged from the house. She didn't seem to notice Jesse at first, and just continued to light into Kaylee, shoving her and grabbing her arm before Jesse could step in. "Useless, lazy, I told you to get in here and sweep the floor. Don't _make_me make you sleep outside…"

Kaylee flinched and broke away, before moving closer to Jesse, who stepped protectively in front of her.

"Who the hell are you?" Jesse yelled at the woman.

"I could ask you the same question!" the woman barked. "What the hell are you doing in my backyard? I'll call the cops!"

Walt must have heard the commotion, because he appeared at the back gate, wearing his black hat.

"What are you doing, treating this little girl like this?" Jesse fired back.

"She's fine. Mind your own goddamned business," the woman retorted.

"She's coming with us," Jesse hissed.

"Come here, Kaylee." The woman tried to grab her hand, and Kaylee clung to Jesse. "Come _here_, Kaylee." The girl let out a little squeak.

Walt opened the gate and walked inside.

"We can pay you." Jesse turned his head as Heisenberg stepped to the fore.

"What?" Jesse exclaimed. "_Pay_her?"

"Yeah," Walt replied. "I'm sure that money talks in this situation. I'm sure ten thousand would suffice."

The woman's eyes lit up, before she made a pondering noise.

"Fifteen."

Jesse turned his head and hissed at Walt, "You are _buying_a little girl!"

Walt's look clearly indicated that his response was, "So?"

The woman smirked.

"But I certainly couldn't release her to the two of you. Two men show up to claim this little girl? Pretty little thing, isn't she? You could have… intentions."

Jesse launched forward, but Walt held him back.

"Come back with a female and… twenty thousand. And we'll talk."

* * *

"I'm not doing this. Why are you making me do this?"

"Come on, Lydia. Stop griping. You know I'm going to pay you handsomely for your service." Walt sighed and looked over from his spot in the driver's seat. Jesse was in the back, this time, arms crossed and a troubled look on his face. Mike would be horrified if he knew. Murderously angry.

But what were they going to do once they got this girl? Bring her to the police? Raise her themselves? Somehow he couldn't really see Mrs. White being okay with Mr. White just bringing home the ten-year-old granddaughter of one of his criminal associates and going, "Can we keep her?"

As if reading his mind, Lydia spoke up, "Well, I'm not raising her. I have one daughter already."

Walt and Lydia looked at Jesse.

"Me?" he spoke up, eyes wide. "The junkie loser? The one you," he pointed to Walt, "bet couldn't last without getting high? You two think _I_ should raise a ten-year-old girl?"  
Walt shrugged.

"You certainly did all right with Brock."

"I didn't raise him. Andrea did!" Jesse protested. "I just came by and played video games with him. That's not the same thing."

Walt ignored him and continued driving towards the house. Jesse sighed, figuring that arguing was futile.

So Mr. White seemed to think that he should raise a little ten year old girl. That was a quarter Mike.

_Mr. White should probably go back to his doctor,_ Jesse thought. _He's losing it._

They parked in front of the house.

"Yo, what if this lady called the cops on us, and they're waiting in there?" Jesse asked.

"She's not calling the cops," Walt replied firmly. "She's going to let us leave with Kaylee and continue collecting checks for her. This woman is not a paragon of virtue."

Jesse sighed and popped open the door and climbing out. The three arrived at the door, and Walt knocked loudly. The door opened, and the woman – "Miss Autumn", Jesse guessed her name was, was standing behind it.

"Let's make this quick."

They walked inside and looked around. The house was in a state of complete disrepair, with things thrown every which way and trash piled in the corners of the room. In a tattered armchair, facing a television with its volume turned down almost all the way, was Kaylee. Her countenance was worried, frightened, and she sank a little further into her chair as the group approached.

Jesse wanted to grab her and take her out of this place right that moment. He owed it to Mike; hell, he owed it to her and to any little kid living like this.

"Kaylee," he whispered, and the girl turned her head towards him. Autumn, meanwhile, looked directly at Walt.

"You have the money?"

Walt extended a hand, around which was wrapped the strap to a black duffel bag, before he dropped it to the floor.

"It's all there. Count it if you like. Now give us the girl."

He was full Heisenberg. He left no room for argument. Jesse half-expected him to hiss, again, "Say my name."

"Take her," Autumn replied, reaching down and opening the bag, fingering the stacks of bills, "Have fun." She gave them a wink that made Jesse's blood boil. What did that woman think he and Mr. White were going to do to this little girl? And what had she _already_done her if that was where her mind was going?

Jesse was about to open his mouth, but Lydia cut in first, holding up her hand and showing off a wedding band.

"Mrs. Lydia Ehrmantraut. Nice to meet you, ma'am," she said, "I was Michael Ehrmantraut's wife. He was the next guardian in line for this little girl. I therefore have a very vested interest in the well-being of my… step-granddaughter. These men are trustworthy. I," Lydia swallowed as she continued, "I swear on it. And I expect I won't be hearing anything from you in the future?"

Walt gave his Heisenberg glare to underscore the statement."

Autumn looked back down at the money.

"Well, of course not. You won't hear anything from me."


	2. Chapter 2

"We need to get her some clothes," Lydia declared, "She can't go around dressed like this."  
Jesse and Walt exchanged glances.

"So, I suppose this is where I come in," Lydia snarked, "Since neither of you know how to shop for clothes for a ten-year-old girl. Drive to Macy's. There's one about five minutes down the road, here."

Walt pulled into the parking lot, before popping the doors open. Kaylee hadn't said a word since they have left the house, and her eyes were a little wide as she stepped out of the car behind Jesse.

Jesse looked over at her, giving her an encouraging glance.

"It's okay, Kaylee," he told her, "We're just going to get you some new clothes, okay? It doesn't seem like that lady was taking very good care of you."  
Kaylee shook her head.

"She was really mean," she offered quietly, "I don't have to go back there, do I?"

"Of course not!" Jesse said firmly, "It seems like – well, if it's okay with you, we were thinking you could come live with me."

Kaylee looked over at Walt and Lydia, then back to Jesse again.

"How'd you know my Pop-Pop?" she inquired.

"We were friends," Jesse replied.

"Where did he go?"

Walt looked away uncomfortably.

"I don't know, kid," Jesse replied, reaching out and squeezing Kaylee's shoulder. "But I do know that he'd want you safe and sound, and that if you stay with me, I'll make sure you've got everything you need. Your grandfather saved my life a couple times, and I owe him. And if he does come back," his voice rose with naïve hope, "I think he'd be okay with me taking care of you."

Kaylee nodded.

"Okay. But… what's your name?"

"I'm Jesse." He looked into her eyes and gave her a smile, one that she mirrored timidly.

"Okay, Jesse. "

"Let's go buy some clothes."

* * *

"People are looking at us, Lydia," Walt hissed, and Lydia glared back at him before waving to a Macy's associate.

"Hi, ma'am," she said in a shaky, polite voice. "Uh, you see. I'm a social worker for Albuquerque DHS. Lydia Ehrmantraut. These are my colleagues. You see, we are working with this child, uh, here, and we need, well…" She lowered her voice in an embarrassed way, "You see the situation. Where's your junior girls' section?"

The associate pointed, seemingly unsure of what to say, and Lydia replied with a brusque nod of thanks.

When they arrived at the correct section, Lydia began to sort through the racks.

"Okay. This, this, and this should fit you," she declared, handing the hangers to Jesse, "And these." She chose a few more. "We should get her about ten outfits, and then you can get more once you guys get where you're going." Lydia nodded after she added a couple of skirts and pants to the pile. "All right. Let's go." She made her way over to the fitting room. "Okay, you two gentlemen stay outside, while Kaylee goes in and tries these on. I'll come along to help."

Kaylee looked nervously over at Jesse, who gave her a little touch on the shoulder.

"Lydia's okay," he told her. "And I'll be right out here, all right? I'll be right out here, kid."

Kaylee nodded and walked into the fitting room, as Jesse handed Lydia the hangers.

When the two had disappeared behind the divide, Jesse turned to Walt.

"Yo, Mr. White. I can't raise some ten-year-old little girl."

Walt shrugged.

"It's not my problem, Jesse. It's yours. For what it's worth," he paused, "I think you'll do just fine." He moved to put a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "Just don't ever give up on her."

Jesse swallowed.

"I won't."

The girl emerged a few moments later; the simple addition of a little black blouse with white polka-dots and a red skirt, along with the effects of what looked like a valiant attempt by Lydia to get rid of the dirt with some soap, had made a world of difference. The blouse's collar hung around her neck in such a way to hide some of the bruises, and Jesse vowed that there would never be any more to need covering.

"Hey, honey," he coaxed quietly. "You look great." Then, he looked over at Lydia. "Wow."  
She put her hands on her hips.

"Well, you know. Experience. Okay. Let's go." She picked up the rest of the hangers, separated out the ones she wanted, and led the group to the checkout. "She's wearing this out," Lydia explained, gesturing for the cashier to scan the barcodes on Kaylee's outfit.  
When the associate was done ringing them out, Walt pulled out a stack of bills.

"I'll pay," he said, looking at Jesse, who swallowed. Walt's heart was pounding. He owed Jesse this much, at least. After Mike… If Jesse ever found out what had happened down by the river.

Lydia knew, of course. She knew. But she didn't seem to be in any hurry to let Jesse know; she could probably take him or leave him so long as she'd be getting her cut of the profits.

They returned to the car with the bags of clothes in hand.

"What's next?" Lydia inquired. "What's your plan, Jesse? Are you really going to raise her?"

Jesse's hands shook as he shoved them in his pockets.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "I owe it to Mike. I'll raise her."

"Then you probably want to get out of town," Lydia told him. "Our dear Miss Autumn will be able to stall Social Services for a while, maybe even a year, but whenever they come looking for Kaylee, she'll be pointing her finger at you."

Jesse nodded.

"We'll just get my stuff, get in my car and go." His words were quiet. He turned and looked over at Kaylee. "Have you had anything to eat today?"

She shook her head, and Jesse's blood boiled in anger again. He made a conscious effort not to show her, though. He had to show kindness, not anger, not a thirst for vengeance against the woman who'd treated Kaylee so wrongly.

Instead, he smiled.

"Okay, sweetheart. Let's go to Perkins once we hit the road. You can get anything you want."

Kaylee brightened.

"Waffles! And ice cream?"

"Of course, honey!" Jesse replied. "Anything you want. We just have to stop off and do a few things first. I need to go to Saul's and get the rest of my money." He looked at Walt. "You need anything before I go?"

Walt swallowed, and looked uncomfortable.

"Wait," he cautioned. "I… I'll come with you to Saul's. I have something for you."  
Jesse raised an eyebrow. It had to be something to draw him back in, some incentive Jesse would not take, but he owed him enough to at least hear him out.

Jesse drove to Saul's with Walt and Kaylee in his car, while Lydia made her way back home without a goodbye.

When he arrived, he was greeted by a deflated-looking Saul, who actually seemed sorry to see Jesse go.

"Good luck with Annie, Daddy Warbucks," he told him and shook his head. He walked over and opened the safe, a started putting money into a bag.

"That's more than I had," Jesse protested, and Walt looked at him, smiling.

"Your five million," he explained. Jesse's eyebrow rose in surprise.

"Uh…" he mumbled. "Thanks." Jesse swallowed. This was real. This was terrifying. "Is this goodbye?"

Walt extended his hand, and Jesse shook it.

"Good luck," Walt told him. "Stay safe." He hesitated, then reached out and hugged him. "Goodbye, Jesse."

* * *

At Perkins, Kaylee dug into her waffle, covered with ice cream, with fervor. Jesse promised himself that he'd look up what she really ought to be eating and considered that ice cream every day might be counterproductive.

She had already started to improve from the frightened state she'd been in back in Miss Autumn's house. She began to speak eagerly, to ask Jesse questions.

"Where are we going to live?"

"I'm not sure. Probably a couple of states away. As far as we can go. I was thinking Oregon or something."

* * *

Jesse drove towards a hotel in Colorado that he found with the GPS on his phone. He was ready for the two to settle in for the night. Before he did, however, he made one last stop, a huge toy store nestled in a shopping center off the main rode. He led Kaylee to the stuffed animals and smiled at her.

"Choose somebody," he said, giving her a gentle nudge. She immediately went for a big fluffy brown bear, and held on to him through the ride to the hotel.

"What's his name?" Jesse asked.

"Bear-Bear," she replied, cuddling him a little closer.

They checked in, getting a room with two beds and a couch. They would stay here a few days, Jesse decided. He had to give Kaylee some time to recover. She was still fragile, and a little nervous.

"Your daughter is adorable," the woman at the front desk told him. Jesse almost asked who she meant, a little surprised at the thought.

A daughter.

This was going to be crazy.

* * *

Jesse let Kaylee choose her bed, and she went with the one on the far wall. That was fine by Jesse; he could protect her if that door opened and the awful Miss Autumn burst in to snatch her back.

"Tired?"

Kaylee nodded.

"All right," Jesse replied, "We'd better turn in for the night. In a few days, we'll drive some more. We need to find a place to live." He ran a hand over his face. Hell, he'd need to enroll Kaylee in school. How the hell was he supposed to get her school records? "Have you been to school, like… recently?" Jesse asked. Kaylee shook her head.

"Miss Autumn wanted me to stay home. She said I was too stupid for school anyway." She looked at her fingers and clung to the bear. Jesse moved to put a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, sweetheart. If I wasn't too dumb for school, you're not either." He pulled her close and gave her a little squeeze. "Soon as we get where we're going, we'll get you registered. We, uh, just may not be able to be 100% about where we're from and who we are, though."

"'Cause we're hiding," Kaylee chimed in. She said it conspiratorially, a little excited. Jesse nodded.

"Yup. But the important thing is that you're gonna have everything you need, okay? Promise." With another gentle squeeze, he let go and moved to his own bed.

"Jesse, wait," Kaylee called. He raised his head. "Uh, when I'm done with my prayers can you come tuck me in?"

"Sure. Of course, honey." Jesse smiled. "D'you want me to pray with you?" It was an awkward question. Jesse hadn't been raised particularly religious, and his friends had never been the church-going type, but Andrea had been Catholic and he'd gotten used to her routines with Brock when they'd been together.

"Okay," Kaylee piped up. Jesse rose and moved to kneel next to her. A haphazard Our Father later, she listed out, "Please take care of my Mommy and bring my Pop-Pop here. But thank you for Jesse. Please keep him safe, too. And keep him here with me." She crossed herself. "Amen."  
Jesse leaned in and hugged her again. She climbed up into bed, bear in hand, and he pulled up the blanket and sheet up to her chest.

"G'night, Kaylee. Sweet dreams."

* * *

Kaylee opened one eye and peeked out in front of her. She took a moment to try and figure out where she was. This bed was warm and soft; it wasn't the hard cot that she'd slept on at Miss Autumn's, with the torn sheets and pillows that would get taken away if Miss Autumn got mad.  
The big fuzzy bear's soft fur stroked across her chin as she hugged him, before slowly rising with him and getting off the bed, walking across the room. She looked over at the sleeping Jesse, who was lying on his side with his hand over his face.

Jesse was so funny and nice. She missed Pop-Pop and her mom, too, but she felt safe with Jesse. He was sweet and liked to hug a lot. Kaylee lay down next to Jesse's bed, stretched out on the floor, and snuggled Bear-Bear close.

* * *

Jesse awoke to find Kaylee crashed on the floor next to his bed. He sighed and stood next to her, leaning down and gently nudging her.

"Hey, sweetheart. Wake up."

She slowly stirred and opened her eyes.

"Hey, Kaylee, why aren't you sleeping in your bed?"

"Wanted to be closer to you," she murmured against her bear.

Jesse didn't know what to say to that.

"Wasn't it uncomfortable?"

"Not really."

"All right," Jesse said, "But I think you ought to try and sleep in your bed tonight. We could try and move the bed a little closer to mine, if that helps. But I don't want you to get sore."

Kaylee slowly stood up.

"I'm okay."

"Well," Jesse replied, tousling her hair gently. "That's good. I want you to stay okay, though. I need to take care of you and make sure everything's okay. How are you feeling?"

"Good," Kaylee said, "My arms don't hurt anymore."

Jesse blinked his eyes to hold back tears.

"That's good, angel. Do you want to maybe go out and see a movie? That might be fun."

"Sure!" Kaylee said, excited. "I haven't seen a movie in _forever_."

Jesse brightened.

"Okay, honey, go pick out an outfit and then go head in the shower and get dressed."

Kaylee trotted off into the bathroom, as Jesse let out a little sigh of relief. Well, she seemed easy to please, at least, though Jesse realized with a sickening thud in his heart that that was because she'd spent the last month being treated like crap. A little bit of brattiness and entitledness might've actually been welcome.

But it would come with time. Just like Jesse's new role as father. It was all on his shoulders, and he had no choice but to do it right.

If only there were a manual or something. Then again, maybe there was. Hadn't his parents had parenting books around, after all?

Then again, look at how he'd turned out.

Regardless, he already felt a love swelling in his heart for the little girl. He wanted to protect her from any possible harm.

He hadn't chosen it. Maybe it had chosen him instead.

He was about to go to the movies with his daughter. And that seemed right.


	3. Chapter 3

For a long time, they only stayed in a place for a few months at most. It was like a photo album of small towns no one had ever heard of, little motels where they would lay their head from time to time before moving on to somewhere else when Jesse got too nervous that someone would start asking questions. But Kaylee did need school. She needed friends. She needed a life.

That was when they found Bismarck.

It was a city, at least officially, but it had a feel that seemed more befitting to a sort of small town. If Jesse drove too far in either direction, he'd find himself surrounded by bison and cows and all kinds of farmland.

Inside, however, it was quiet and safe (and had far less people with "Fargo" accents than Jesse had thought there would be). They fit in better than Jesse had thought they would, too. Two people who had traveled a long time. The neighbors asked Jesse questions from time to time, but it dropped off as, he assumed, they came to their own conclusions.

They said that Jesse Pinkman… or rather, Jesse Gray, must be a widower, a very sad one (and so young, too) raising a little girl on his own with no family in sight. They assumed he was running from too many memories and too much heartache. They wanted to help out as well as they could, and they did.

Kaylee lived out her teenage years in Bismarck. It was home.

Except in some part of her, she must have known that it wasn't. She must have remembered that there had been somewhere else, another place, another city that called to her, beckoned her to come home. She spent a few years at community college, but when she received her acceptance letter from the University of New Mexico, she decided that that was where she had to go.

Jesse was distraught, worried, concerned. There had to be someone back there still looking for him. Then again, it had been twelve years.

But he couldn't let Kaylee go back alone. What if there was something – someone – back there that could harm her? He had to protect her.

So he departed Bismarck, too, transferring stores and finding a manager gig not far from where he had lived before. It seemed to be time for a Homecoming. He just had to hope that no one would recognize him as the scrawny punk who'd gotten in over his head so many years ago.

* * *

Brock Cantillo snapped up his head, smiling as he heard his name called and acting as if he hadn't just been interrupted from peeking at his text messages.

"I'm here." His head went on a swivel and he looked around. This was his first semester at the University of New Mexico, and he hadn't quite adapted to the reality of being able to come and go as he pleased, not to mention to encounter a whole flood of new faces. His eyes took in a dark-haired girl who looked a few years older than him, a busty knock-out. He caught his breath and paid more attention. He'd have to catch her name; he looked around intently as a few more names were called.

"Mikaila Gray."

The girl raised her hand.

"I go by Kaylee."

Brock leaned in, propped his chin up on his fist. He'd have to pay attention now.

A piece of paper hit Brock in the neck, and he turned around, scooped it up, and opened it. He already knew who it was from, and he caught the sender's eye.

Kira Rodarte-Quayle. She'd obviously had a thing for him, ever since orientation. She was a skinny, waifish girl with sad blue eyes and light-brown hair. Brock gave her a little nod. It wasn't that he thought she was ugly or odd in a bad way, but he only really saw her as a friend.

Brock smiled at her and gave a little wave, before opening the note.

"Today! Concert on campus. You in? Don't want to be sitting there by myself like a loser."

He gave a last quick glance back at the mysterious girl – at Kaylee, that was her name, he'd have to make sure to remember it – before tilting his nose downward and writing back, "What kind of concert? Anything good or…?" He waited until the professor had turned to the board before flicking it back over on to Kira's desk.

Brock narrowed his gaze. He really needed to stop checking out girls all the time. That was what his mother had told him. She had said, "Brock! Your head needs to not be on a swivel all the time. Swivel it back to your homework."

He was certainly trying. College was already harder than he had anticipated and he had only just arrived here. It was bad enough that he had decided to live on campus, feeling like that was the "full college experience" and anything less just didn't measure up; now he was around so many people he didn't know and in a world he wasn't sure how to navigate. He kind of wished he had just stayed living at home and commuted. At least then he could return home every night to his Xbox and his own bed.

"Okay, that's everything," the professor announced. "I look forward to seeing your assignments on Tuesday." Brock turned his head down and looked at what he'd written. He had written a fair amount… well, at least up until the point in which he had started drawing spirited renditions of the Transformers. He'd have to ask Kira what the assignment actually was. She somehow had the ability to doze off, draw, write and dream, and somehow still know what the hell was going on in class. Brock figured if he could extract that quality, he would bottle it and make a fortune.

But for now… The girl. Kaylee. He had to find out more about her.

He left the class in a rush towards his dorm, leaving Kira in her seat, watching after him, her lips turned downward in a saddened expression.


End file.
